


Nothing Easy

by GreyLiliy



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Awkwardness, Fluff and Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-17
Updated: 2013-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:27:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23618236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyLiliy/pseuds/GreyLiliy
Summary: Whirl is going to ask Fortress Maximus out and he’s got the energon needed to do it.
Relationships: Fortress Maximus/Whirl
Kudos: 4





	Nothing Easy

**Author's Note:**

> [First posted to Tumblr on December 17, 2013 as “Drabble #105 - Fortress Maximus/Whirl.” Crossposted to Archive of Our Own on April 12, 2020. Only the work itself has been posted.]
> 
> Written as a Request.

Relationships were hard.

So it was probably a good thing that Whirl didn’t do anything “easy.”

The ex-Wrecker held two glasses of high-grade, the best he could threaten out of Swerve, and stood behind a hulking mass of handsome, handsome metal known as Fortress Maximus. The ex-prison guard was sitting in the bar, alone people watching. And by “people watching,” Whirl meant “staring at the wall and trying to pretend he didn’t exist.” Whirl would know–it was one of his favorite hobbies when he wasn’t spending every waking moment attracting attention to himself.

But that wasn’t what today was about. Whirl sucked in a vent. He was a Wrecker. He was shameless.

He could ask if Fortress Maximus wanted to share a drink.

“Hey, got you something to get all liquored up,” Whirl said. He dropped the glass on the table hard enough to slosh a bit over the side. It sprinkled on Fortress Maximus’ fingers and the hard-top in a small puddle. The giant looked down at Whirl with a raised eyebrow, and a small uncomfortable frown. Whirl continued, “If you’re going to sit and mope alone, you might as well be plastered, right?”

Fotress Maximus stared at him, a glare attempting to form, but the bigger mech couldn’t seem to work up the effort. Whirl wasn’t worth the effort.

Okay. So this wasn’t going as Whirl had envisioned (which had involved laughter and slaps on the backs and maybe some screwing around in a closet later). Yeah. This was far from that little daydream.

New plan.

“But, not like you have to do it alone, right?” Whirl laughed, holding up his own glass. He should sit. Should he sit? Yes. Whirl scooted into the seat across from Fortress Maximus and dropped his own drink on the table. Nothing spilled. Score. “We’re in a bar. That’s what you do. Get…drunk.”

Fortress Maximus tapped the edge of the offered glass with the tip of his finger, and sighed heavily. He smeared the bit of spilled energon on the table in a circular pattern. But he didn’t say anything.

New Plan. Take Two.

“So, all alone?” Whirl asked, tapping his claws against the glass. Tink. Tink. Tink. Whirl revved his engines once, and tapped a faster. Tink. Tink. Tink. Tink. “That sucks.”

Fortress Maximus pulled in his shoulders, and put his hands under the table. He shuffled his foot, and even the tiniest movements were like a roar of sound and power. Whirl loved that about Max. Power, strength, size, and barely was aware he had it. Well, when he wasn’t fighting. Whirl’d heard stories from Drift about snapping ‘Con heads off with his shoulder plating.

Which was bad ass.

Whirl sort of loved that too.

Now if only he could get Fortress Maximus to talk. They could swap stories or something about their accomplishments in the destroying and killing Decepticons field. Or not talk about it ever. Whirl was up for either. He thought. Maybe he shouldn’t have skipped that appointment with Rung to flirt with Fortress Maximus.

Nah.

Fortress Maximus vented heavily and stared at the table. Drink untouched. Miserable. The helicopter stopped tapping the glass and looked down at his claws. Whirl was probably making it worse. That…that wasn’t what he wanted. Whirl scratched at the table top, drawing little circles to match Fortress Maximus’. The ex-Wrecker sighed, and put into effect a protocol most Wreckers didn’t know the meaning of: Retreat.

Whirl stood up and grabbed his glass. He’d need it. “Well, I uh. Enjoy the drink. I’ll just leave you be.”

“No!” Fortress Maximus cried, grabbed Whirl’s arm in a flash far too fast for someone his size. The slim metal of Whirl’s arm dented to match the giant’s hand, and energon splashed everywhere when Whirl dropped the glass of high grade. Everyone in the bar turned to look at them for all of two seconds of silence, before going back to their business. Fortress Maximus let go with a jerk, and slammed his hands on his lap under the table. “Sorry, sorry. I just. You don’t need to leave.”

Whirl looked at his dented arm. He looked at Fortress Maximus biting the bottom of his lip and looking even more miserable. This looked like a complicated situation that would require delicacy, carefully thought out dialogue to avoid further insult, and tact.

That would be the easy route.

“You wanna’ get out of here and frag?” Whirl asked, tapping his claws together in the air.

Whirl didn’t do anything “easy.”

Fortress Maximus looked at him, wide eyed and mouth open. Whirl stood his ground, and tipped Fortress Maximus’ still full glass slightly to the side with the tip of his claw. Whirl pushed it over, spilling it in Fortress Maximus’ lap and all over Swerve’s clean table.

Oops.

“I was gonna’ work my way up to asking over drinks, but that plan went up in smoke faster than Cybertron,” Whirl said. He shrugged, and spun the rotors on his arm lightly. Whirl leaned on the table, ignoring the soak of enegon into the newly dented metal. “How about it?”

Fortress Maximus bit his lip, and leaned over. His body shook, from tiny trembles until he was collapsed on the table in a laughing fit. Fortress Maximus looked up at Whirl with a glance far too fond for his sense of predictability, and said, “I was hoping you’d ask when you walked over.”

Whirl only had one answer for that: “Score.”


End file.
